Do You Really Want To Live Forever?
by nostalgic-rebel
Summary: Roe Underwood lives in fear of her stepfather, her stepsister and her haunting past. When her life takes a turn for the worst, who can she trust? Can her best friend, Blaine Anderson, and Glee Club help her through?
1. Chapter 1

"BEEP BEEP BEEP…"

I quickly hit the snooze button on my alarm, hoping that Miranda didn't wake up. I watch my stepsister toss in her bed, just across the room from mine, and when her eyes don't open, I let out a sigh of relief.

Whew, I think to myself. She didn't wake up. That was close.

I get out of bed and go to the bathroom, preparing for another day in the life of Roe Underwood.

If Miranda had woken up, I know my day wouldn't have started good. She would've woken up, screaming about how inconsiderate I am, and how stupid I am for waking up so early in the first place. This would wake her father, who wouldn't miss an opportunity to tear a strip off me. Then, I'd be denied the privilege of going to Glee Club and have to go to school with Miranda, only be forced to wait in behind the dumpster for 5 minutes until she's far enough away, because she doesn't want anyone to know that the geekiest kid in the school is _her_ stepsister.

Yeah. None of that would be good at all. A quickly as possible, I get dressed, grab my phone and backpack, and run out of the house.

As I walk down the street, towards the school, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, indicating that I have just received a text. To amuse myself, I think of all the people it could possibly be. Firstly, it could be Miranda, insisting that I stole some clothing item of hers, despite the fact that I wouldn't fit into anything she has (nor am I at all interested). She is, however, asleep at the moment, so it can't be her. It could be my 12-year-old stepbrother, Isaiah, who often sends me random texts to make me feel like shit (some of which are dictated by Miranda, I'm sure). But, most likely, it's the one person who isn't out to break my spirit.

I take my phone from my pocket and smile.

It's Blaine Anderson.

_Hey, I got to school early. You gonna be here soon?_

Whenever I'm feeling down, it seems like Blaine knows, or at least subconsciously. Don't get any ideas, we're not dating or anything. Actually, he's gay, and he's the best friend I think I've ever had. I reply to his text.

_On my way. Will be there in less than 5 mins._

Immediately, I get a response back.

_Sounds good. Mr. Schue says hi! :P_

I laugh out loud as I think to myself, those are my boys. My best friend, and the closest thing to a 'father' I'll ever have. A smile appears on my face, and I make a mental note to try and keep it there. I do that most every day, though, but I guess it's the effort and the aspiration that counts.

_Haha :D_

"Finally!" Blaine says sarcastically as I walk into the choir room. He's standing next to the piano with Mr. Schuester, "Took you long enough!"

"Right," I laugh at him. "I was like three minutes; calm yourself!"

"How was your weekend, Roe?" Mr. Schue asks me.

I nod my head as I put my bag down by my chair. "Really good," I tell them, my usual lie. "Yours?"

"Ohh," he sighs. "Lots of marking. But I did get a chance to watch The X Factor. Did you guys see Carly's performance?"

"No, unfortunately," Blaine says. "I was stuck at my aunt's house babysitting four of my crazy little cousins while the parents had a night out. It was fun, but exhausting."

Mr. Schue smiles and politely dismisses himself to go over the lesson plan for the day. Me and Blaine sit at our chairs to talk.

"Was your weekend okay?" Blaine asks me, leaning in and talking softly. "I called after I put the kids to sleep on Saturday and you didn't pick up."

"Yeah, sorry about that," I say, patting my hands on my thighs uncomfortably. I can tell Blaine anything, I know that, but whenever we're out in public, especially at school, I cease up.

"What happened?"

"I... Um..." I look at Blaine, his sympathetic eyes. "Yeah, um, Miranda told her dad that I stole money from her wallet, which I didn't, but yeah… It was stupid."

"You alright?" He puts his hand on my shoulder. "He didn't hu..."

"No," I say quickly. "It was fine."

I realize how unconvincing I sound, and I can see it in Blaine's expression, so I crack a smile and say, "Seriously, Blaine. I'm good. God knows I'd tell you if I weren't."

Blaine grins. "Good. Do you want to go to the mall after school? I hear there's a bunch of new fall sales."

"I don't really have any money," I say. "But I'd love to go."

"That's fine," he says. "We'll window shop."

A bunch of the Glee kids have now started filing in, sitting at their seats around us. In a few moments, Mr. Schue begins. "So, guys, did any of you catch the X Factor this weekend?"

A few people mumble 'yeah' and others just shake their head.

"It was amazing, right? I really loved Carly's performance. Man, that girl's got chops! She took that song and made it her own. It's the inspiration for this week's assignment: pick a classic song and make it your own. Really put your own spin on it."

"Uh, Mr. Schue," Jake asks, raising his hand slightly. "Can we work in groups on this one?"

"Um," Mr. Schue thinks for a second. "Sure. Yeah, that could work."

Me and Blaine's eyes shoot to each other immediately, and I know something pretty epic is in the making.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey, Roe!" Blaine runs up to me as I'm taking stuff out of my locker during break time. "Did you come up with any song ideas?"

"Yes!" I turn around. "Me too!"

"Okay!" Blaine says. "You first!"

"Well, maybe a more contemporary version of Top of the World..."

"Great..." Blaine says enthusiastically.

"Or some Chuck Berry– Johnny B. Goode..."

"Oh, thats good."

"And Hey Jude," I say. "What'd you think?"

Blaine smiles. "I love it! They're all great."

"C'mon..." I tease him. "I won't mind if you don't like them."

"No!" he laughs. "I really love them all."

I smile. "What are your ideas?"

"Well," he says, acting all nervous. "It might be totally cheesy, and we don't have to do it if you don't want to, but how does 'Here Comes The Sun' sound to you?"

"Oh my gosh," I smile as the lyrics sing into my mind. "That's absolutely perfect! What made you think of it?"

Blaine blushes at my enthusiasm. "I was staring out the window in Science and the sun was out, so maybe that's it. But then I got thinking about the song, and… I think it's really happy and inspiring and I think you need that right about now."

"You're way too sweet," I say, pulling Blaine into a hug. "You know that, right?"

"Oh, gee," he says sarcastically, before we part and head off to our last classes of the day.

Blaine and I meet at his locker after school.

"Ms. Patrick, I'm telling you, is completely insane," Blaine tells me while he's putting books from his locker into his bag. "She spent the first half of class showing us pictures of her nephew, and the second half looking in the back of the textbook for the answers to test questions. I doubt I'll learn a thing this year."

He's being totally serious, but I laugh anyway. "That's insane. How is she even allowed to be a teacher?"

"She's been here forever," Blaine says. "She's probably got a contract or something. I wouldn't be surprised it she taught my grandparents to read."

I chuckle, as my phone vibrates. I take it from my pocket to check it, and there's a text from my stepfather.

"You ready to go?" Blaine asks, referring to the mall, as he shuts like locker.

"Yeah," I tell him as I read to my messages. "Just a sec."

_come home_

I sigh. I texted my stepfather earlier, telling him that I was going to the mall, and he said it was 'okay' .' I type on the keys:

_Why?_

I look up and Blaine and I start walking down the hall.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asks. "You've been acting weird all day."

I nod. "I'm fine. Just tired. I... I stayed up way too late last night."

"Oh," Blaine says. "What were you doing?"

"Studying for French," I say quickly, as its the first thing that comes to mind. I'm awful at lying, but I congratulate myself on doing a mediocre job.

"You don't have Mr. Ross, do you?"

I shake my head.

"You should count yourself lucky. Last class, he made us do two essays in forty-five minutes, which..."

Blaine goes on as I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I take it out, and Blaine keeps on talking. Maybe that's why we get along so well; Blaine is a great talker, with actual interesting things to say, and I happen to be a decent listener.

I read the text:

_come home if u know what's good 4 u._

I stop in my tracks, and Blaine stops speaking.

He looks at me, "What's up?"

I just look at my phone. "Sorry," I say. "I'm just..."

"Give me that."

Blaine grabs my phone away from me and don't stop him. If I didn't give it to him, he'd just become more suspicious and blow the whole thing out of proportion. He tends to do that.

"You don't..." Blaine looks at my phone, and back at me, and then back down at the phone again. "You don't have to respond to this."

"Don't be silly," I say. "He's my father. I have to..."

I go to take my phone back, but Blaine holds it up in the air, out of my reach. "No, actually you don't."

I just look at him. "Yeah, I do."

"No!" Blaine says. "This is... Just... Come to the mall. Don't go home. He already said you could go to the mall."

Blaine has his concerned face on, and I swear that look could've made Hitler a saint. He knows what I have to go home to, although most of it I've left to his imagination, which could be either a good or bad thing (probably bad, really). He knows that I don't have a good relationship with my stepfamily, and he saw some bruises that he figured out came from my stepfather, but that's pretty much all. I don't want him to worry about me more than he does.

"He'd kill me," I say, trying to chuckle after I say as to not sound too serious, when I realize the reality of what I just said. It takes my breath away for a moment.

"Fine," Blaine says. "But I'm coming with you."

"Home?" I ask.

"Yes," he says. "With you. We can practice the song at your place."

I shake my head, just as the phone vibrates again. Still in his hands, Blaine checks it.

"Yeah, no," he says. "I'm not letting..."

I grab Blaine's hands and turn the phone towards me.

_hurry up you little slut_

"I...um..." I mutter. "He's just... He's just kidding, Blaine."

Blaine looks at me, totally confused and/or unconvinced.

I say, "Ed's got a really sick sense of humour."

"Roe, I'm not so..."

"Look," I interrupt him. "I'll keep my phone with me. I'll text you. We'll keep in touch. It'll be fine."

"I don't see why I can't just come over..."

"...Besides, you know you should probably study for that Science test you were telling me about," I ignore his previous comment and smirk at him.

"You're far too persuasive, Monroe Underwood," Blaine jokes.

His expression turns sober, and his eyes go all puppy-dog-like and protective. "But if anything happens to you..."

"Nothing will happen to me!"

Blaine smiles, leaning in to give me a hug. "Nothing better not."

I accept his embrace, and I squeeze him tight. Once upon a time, I had no friends at all. No one who cared about me, no one to call a friend, no one to even talk to at school, since I was six. Now, I have Blaine.

And it kills me that I can't tell him everything.

We pull away.

"If we can't go shopping" Blaine says, handing me back my phone. We continue to walk down the hall. "Can I at least drive you home?"

"I live, like, three minutes away," I remind Blaine. "I'll just walk."

"Alright..." he teases me, exaggerating a long sigh.

I laugh, "I'll see you tomorrow, though."

We walk out the front doors, and Blaine walks out into the parking lot.

"You're going to text me, right?" Blaine asks, walking backward so he can face me. "Or call. Whatever works."

"Don't worry," I nod my head, laughing at his concern. "I will."

"Promise?" Blaine asks.

"Promise."

Blaine walks off towards his car, a little red Toyota, and I veer off to the sidewalk. Like I said to Blaine, I only live a few minutes from the school.

I wonder how much Blaine suspects about me? He just knows me so well; he can tell when I'm upset/depressed/angry/embarrassed, etc., so he's probably connected the dots. Such a huge part of me wants to tell him everything; all the things I can't even admit to myself, all the secrets that are eating away at my soul.

But I can't share them with him. I just can't. He'll probably just think I'm disgusting or an attention-seeking freak. And I can't lose him.


End file.
